


There Are Plenty of Fish in The Sea (but I'm a Fish Out of Water)

by LeandraLocke



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Australia, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Scuba Diving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeandraLocke/pseuds/LeandraLocke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky is on vacation in Australia with his best friend Natasha when he meets a handsome and sweet scuba instructor. The only problem is: Bucky's flirting techniques are a bit rusty since his last relationship didn't turn out so great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My own (and very awesome) Australia trip with my long-term co-writer saturnmeetsmercury has inspired me to write this fic. As always, Indigo is beta-reading and doing an amazing job, so thanks for that!  
> Mild warnings for mentions of a past abusive relationship and descriptions of an anxiety attack in later chapters. But I do think the fluff will make up for it ;)  
> The story will have roughly 5 or 6 chapters when it's finished.  
> If you enjoyed it, please let me know.

“What if my… thing breaks and I can’t breathe anymore?”

“Then you breathe through my secondary regulator.” Two strong hands pull down the straps of his diving jacket.

“What if I see a shark?”

“Then you stop and marvel at it.” Full lips give him a cheeky smile.

“What if I _drown_?” _In those eyes_ for sure, Bucky thinks and mentally slaps himself.

“Lucky for you I’m also a rescue diver. You won’t drown.” One of those firm hands smacks him on the shoulder encouragingly and Bucky lets out a long-suffering sigh. It is requited by another wide smile that makes small wrinkles appear around those impossibly blue eyes, and Bucky has to squint against the sunlight to be able to look into them for a moment longer.

“Stop being such a whiny baby and enjoy yourself, Barnes.” Natasha is sitting only a few feet away from him, already geared up and ready to jump into the crystal clear and admittedly invitingly blue waters.

Bucky shoots her a glare, but she only chuckles before she slides forward from the railings at the back of the boat. She lands in the water with a soft splash, completely submerged for a second before she comes back up and floats effortlessly on the surface. Her own diving partner, a huge, muscular Australian who introduced himself as ‘Thor’ (Bucky still wonders if he wasn’t  just messing with them), follows with much less grace. After a short exchange  between her and her diving buddy, Natasha just waves at Bucky before she starts descending into the shallow ocean.

“It’s fine to feel intimidated before your very first dive. It’ll pass in no time, you’ll see.” Bucky looks back at his instructor. His name is Steve, he’s American too, and he’s incredibly, outrageously attractive. That’s all Bucky knows of him so far. Steve has done up his gear too, now. He’s only wearing a short-sleeved neoprene shirt over his swim trunks, making him look a lot less stupid than Bucky feels in the full-body wetsuit he got from the diving company to avoid the albeit small possibility of being stung by box jellyfish.

Natasha, who has been diving for a while and in many different locations has brought her own wetsuit, thinner, skin-tight, and all black which makes her look like some kind of super assassin rather than a scuba diver. Bucky does appreciate his thick wetsuit after all, because one like _hers_ would make him look like a complete jackass.

“We won’t dive down immediately. You’ll get some time close to the surface to become familiar with the equipment and then we’ll go down slowly,” Steve explains patiently, his voice just the right measure between deep and light, calming and a tiny bit rough around the edges. Bucky can only smile goofily in reply. It’s probably the excitement for the dive, he decides, pointedly refusing to accept he turned into a flustered mess just because the guy he’s talking to is rather hot.

“Okay,” he says only to prove that he hasn’t lost his speech.

“Good,” Steve says and then slides into the water too, doing something with his jacket which inflates with air. He reaches up for a tube on Bucky’s jacket and pushes one of the two buttons at the end of it, and Bucky can feel his jacket becoming tighter with the air filling it.

“Now put your regulator in your mouth and one finger on your mask like this.” Steve shows him and then adds, “and let yourself fall forward.”

There’s a brief moment of uncertainty in which Bucky thinks that, with the weight of the heavy compressed air tank on his back and the weight belt around his waist, he’s surely going to sink, but he’s proven wrong a moment later when, after the tiniest bit of hesitation, he slides into the water and stays on top.

They practice breathing underwater first, Bucky’s face submerged but his body afloat thanks to the jacket, then blowing water out of the mask or retrieving the regulator in case he loses it. The other safety measures Steve explains sound a bit more complicated, but Steve assures him that it’ll be alright even in the unlikely event that any of those emergencies should occur.

“Alright, ready?” Steve asks, lifting one hand with an ‘O’ formed between forefinger and thumb.

“Yeah,” Bucky replies and, a second later, remembers to repeat the divers’ sign at Steve. He deflates his own jacket - _the BCD_ , he mentally corrects himself, _whatever that stands for_. Then, he slowly feels himself become heavier and descend into the water. Steve’s left hand is grasping his right as he steers them downwards by the anchor line, slowly and giving Bucky enough time to clear the pressure in his ears.

And then it happens; quite suddenly the unfamiliar and odd feeling of breathing under water and the concentration to do everything right fades into the back of his mind as soon as he sees the first colourful fish swim among the coral. Clear, greenish blue all around them, colours burst into life when they approach the rocky formations of the reef, yellow and pink, vivid white and purple, and Bucky is absolutely stunned, in awe of how amazing it all looks. He cannot stop staring, and he’s glad to have Steve guiding him along, close enough to get the perfect view but in a safe distance so as not to touch the coral.

When Steve looks at him and signs ‘okay?’ again, his smile is visible around his eyes even underneath his mask. It’s catching, and Bucky can’t help but smile back as he responds in kind, before Steve points ahead and they see a larger fish, colourful in shades of turquoise and purple.

They see so many fish, more than Bucky would have ever thought possible, in all shapes, sizes and colours. Later - though Bucky couldn’t even tell how long they’ve already been floating weightlessly around under water - they do see sharks, and Bucky isn’t even the least bit afraid, though his heart does beat a little faster from excitement and wonder. The sharks are rather small and huddled together in a cavern in the reef, white tips on their fins and faces that don’t expose any threatening looking teeth but look rather, for the lack of a better word, cute.

As they continue, he sees Nat and Thor come around from the other side of a coral wall. He waves at her and points at what he’s just seen while Steve gives Thor more signs, probably to explain what sight awaits them if they continue in that direction.

Nat takes a few photos of him that he can’t wait to see though he probably looks like a dork. Then she pats him on the shoulder in passing, and they part ways again, Steve leading him around the wall in the opposite direction. The reef ends there and the waters are much deeper down below. Bucky can still see the ground, somewhat blurry and darker in the deep. It is just a tiny bit intimidating to know that the ocean continues all around them, vast and endless, deep below and deeper still where the blue fades to black in the distance.

He looks up, and the feeling intensifies when he realises how far down they must have descended, sunlight streaming in dancing ribbons through the waves, far, far above. That thought is gone in an instant when he looks ahead again and a shape comes into his line of vision, large and round and he recognises it as a turtle, swimming towards them. It’s big, really, really fucking _huge_ , and possibly the most beautiful thing Bucky has ever seen. It doesn’t seem to mind them at all, continuing its path towards the coral completely unperturbed, and Steve points and steers him around, getting him so close to the turtle that he could touch it as it starts nibbling on the coral for whatever weeds it can find there.

But then the turtle is on its way again, and Bucky reluctantly lets Steve pull him away along the wall.

There are a few more interesting looking fish after that, a giant clam and a beautiful anemone, and Bucky is glad he can’t speak under water, because otherwise he would have blurted out that he’s just found Nemo.

And then, as they round another hill of coral, Bucky realises with great disappointment that what they’re seeing there close-by is the anchor line of the boat, and their dive has come to an end. He really could have stayed down here for an hour longer or more, but the air in his tank, as he can guess from Steve reading the instrument attached to it, is running out.

When they breach the surface Steve has to reach for his BCD to inflate it because Bucky simply forgot to do it himself in his excitement. He can’t help but laugh in delight of everything he’s just seen, and he splutters and coughs as salt water gets into his mouth. Steve laughs, too, and gives him an amusedly exasperated look as he pulls him towards the boat’s ladder. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Bucky remembers that he was supposed to leave the regulator in his mouth until they were out of the water.

Nat returns with Thor just a few minutes later, when Bucky has gotten out of his gear, and Bucky excitedly tells her about everything he’s seen. She, too, saw the sharks, but not the turtle, only a different, smaller one somewhere farther away. They continue to chat as they get out of their wetsuits, and Bucky thinks that he should get certified like Nat the next chance he gets because this simply was one of the most exciting, impressive experiences he’s ever had. He wants to thank Steve who has been a major part of it and made this experience so effortless for him, but when he looks for his instructor he sees that Steve is busy with some of the few other tourists on the boat. Bucky has no other choice than to follow Nat up to the small sundeck to let themselves dry in the warmth, but he continues to look up every time he hears someone coming up the ladder.

Nat looks up as well and gives him an all too knowing smirk before she adjusts her sunglasses and leans back down to soak up the sun.

“What?” Bucky asks, more amused than testy.

“Well, he _is_ handsome, that instructor of yours,” she replies, and Bucky doesn’t mean for his sigh to come out so dreamy.

“I guess so.”

“Seems nice, too,” she presses on, and this time Bucky manages to release a long-suffering sigh instead.

“Yeah. And probably straight.”

“You don’t know that,” she responds matter-of-factly, and Bucky knows she’s right. Something not quite pleasant twists in his stomach and he involuntarily looks back in the direction of the ladder, almost as if he could will Steve to climb up and join them.

“Even if he isn’t, he lives here and we’re going back home soon.”

“In a week,” she replies. “And I’m not saying you should marry him and emigrate to Australia, I’m just saying you could at least have a bit of fun. That’s what holidays are for.”

“Wow, I’m so telling Clint you said that,” he says and receives just a dry chuckle from her.

She turns around towards him, propped up on one elbow, and pushes her sunglasses to the tip of her nose, her tone much less teasing when she continues. “Bucky, all I’m saying is that you should get back onto that horse sometime, no matter how things went with--”

“Yeah, I know,” he cuts her off, not wanting to hear the name he’s been trying to erase from his memory for the past seven months now.

“And he wouldn’t be the worst horse to get onto,” she finishes in a clear attempt to lighten the mood, the concerned look in her green eyes disappearing behind her glasses again.

“Oh my God, Nat,” Bucky groans, but can’t help the chuckle from rising in his throat, and the small shiver running down his spine and over his arms has nothing to do with the cool wind. He has to fight hard to chase away the mental images that have risen at her words.

Maybe she’s right, he concludes then, as soon as he sees a head of dark blond hair appear at the top of the ladder. Steve waves at him and smiles, radiant and warm. The kindness and trustworthiness radiating from him make Bucky feel lightheaded. So, maybe Natasha is right. Maybe he _is_ ready to have some fun, to flirt and enjoy himself again once in a while. Maybe. He at least decides to try.

But Steve is discussing something with Thor and then with a female crew member, pretty and blonde with a friendly face. Later, when the shoreline is coming closer and closer and Bucky and Nat go back down to pack their things, Steve is busy tidying up the equipment and getting the boat ready to berth, and the first time Bucky is actually standing in front of him again and has his attention, he’s disembarking with the other passengers and passing the crew who’s lined up to wish them well.

“It was nice meeting you,” Steve says, and Bucky’s breath catches briefly in his throat because those words sound more personal and sincere than a standard parting phrase to be used with all their guests should.

“Yeah, I… I had an amazing time. Thank you, Steve,” he says and watches his smile become a little brighter.

“Don’t mention it. You did really well.”

Bucky feels his stomach tingle, and he breathes in deeply. It’s now or never.

“Hey…” he has just started, all his courage summoned when a woman pushes against him with her large beach bag impatiently, and Bucky curses under his breath. “Um, yeah. Thanks,” he hastily finishes and lifts his hand in a small wave as he descends the stairs to where Nat is waiting for him.

He would swear he saw the tiniest bit of regret in the final smile Steve gave him, but maybe he’s reading too much into it, and it’s just wishful thinking all together. That’s what he tells himself as he looks back and sees Steve say goodbye to the next guests. He doesn’t try to catch his gaze again, thinking that he’s probably being silly, and that it wasn’t the best idea to begin with. Steve probably gets attention from people all the time. And he may be straight after all, he thinks, remembering how the blonde patted his shoulder and how he smiled at her.

There’ll be other opportunities and other people, and it’s probably for the best anyway, his common sense tells him. There’s a slightly sinking feeling in his stomach that doesn’t want to listen. It’s too late now, anyway.

So, instead of waiting there until all other passengers have left to go running back to Steve like a love-sick puppy, he just continues to the pier, ignoring the sympathetic sigh he hears from Natasha behind him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments! And for reading despite the embarrassing error in the summary (that's what happens when you change the structure of a sentence and don't proof read it. Ugh ^^).   
> Here's chapter two. Chapters 3 and 4 are written and only need to be beta-read now. And I suppose the fic will have 6 chapters in total.

Bucky shoves the Chinese noodles around on his plate, his chin propped up on one hand. Natasha, at the other side of the table, seems to thoroughly enjoy her sushi rolls and gives him a questioning glance.

“Jeez, stop moping already,” she says and puts another piece in her mouth. 

“I'm not moping!” Bucky replies testily and takes a forkful of noodles, grimacing slightly and nicking one of her soy sauce fishes. “This stuff is just bland as fuck.” 

“It's mall food, what did you expect?” she retorts with a shrug. Luckily, Natasha knows him well enough to have brought extra soy sauce and isn't complaining about the theft. “You are moping, though.” 

“M’not,” he mumbles around more noodles, not sounding very convincing even in his own head. 

So not going after Steve and asking him for his number may have been a bad decision after all, Bucky had to conclude the previous evening after he couldn't stop thinking about the missed opportunity all the way from the marina back to their apartment. But there's nothing to be done now as Bucky clearly can't go back to the boat, find Steve and ask him after all.

“Maybe we should go back to the boat so you can ask Steve after all,” Nat suggests and Bucky deliberately lets his fork drop onto his plate as he glares at her, not willing to admit he’s slightly freaked out about her sudden mind-reading abilities.

“Yeah of course. That’d totally not be ridiculous or anything.”

Nat shrugs again. “Maybe. But if you make a fool of yourself then you can just tell yourself you won't see him ever again. So who cares?”

“I do,” he replies, and although she's right he doesn't quite fancy embarrassing himself.

Natasha doesn't reply, her gaze with an accompanying smile focused on somewhere else. When Bucky follows it he spots a guy, black and athletic, a cheeky grin on his lips as he passes their table. He gives her a nod and quietly says, “Enjoy,” before he acknowledges Bucky with a friendly smile and walks on to an empty table for himself. 

Bucky looks at Nat quizzically. “What the hell was that?” 

“Sushi,” she replies innocently, “and a bit of friendly human interaction. You should try it too sometime.” 

“Ha. Ha,” he replies and continues to focus on his fried noodles that still taste bland despite the added saltiness. “I should have tried the sushi too.”

“I did mean the human interaction part but yeah, the sushi is really good.” 

“Rub it in, will you?” Bucky leaves his fork on his not even half eaten plate for good and drapes his napkin over it. “At least you're enjoying good food while I'm starving.”

“Don't be melodramatic,” she chides him. “We can go into Woolworths and buy something nice to cook for dinner. And some ice cream for you.” 

That, at least, manages to improve his mood and he finds himself smiling. “Can we get that salted caramel macadamia nut stuff?” 

“Whatever makes you happy,” she replies a bit patronisingly, but Bucky doesn't mind feeling like a child when it's about ice cream. 

Bucky waits for Nat to finish her lunch, playing around with his phone a little impatiently (seriously, why does she always have to eat so slow?). But it’s late at night back home in New York, and none of his friends seem to be online, so he ends up playing sudoku until, finally, the last piece of sushi vanishes in Nat’s mouth. 

A few minutes later, they’re at the large supermarket, two shopping baskets in their hands as they walk around among the shelves and discuss what they could have for dinner. Nat has suggested kangaroo steak, and even though it feels a bit cruel after having petted so many kangaroos and wallabies the other day at the animal sanctuary, Bucky is too tempted not to agree. And so they stand in front of the shelf with packed but fresh meats, looking at the various items. 

“Oh, no, you don’t want to buy that,” they hear a male voice behind them say, and when they both turn around, Bucky spots the guy from earlier. He has a basket of his own in one hand, some veggies and bread in it, and he gives them both another grin. “Trust me. You want to buy your kangaroo at a proper butcher’s. It’s not even that much more expensive, and you’ll get much better cuts.”

Nat raises her brows at him, and Bucky can tell that she’s being deliberately flirty, which has the guy somewhat confused as he looks from her back to Bucky.

‘I’m so telling Clint,’ Bucky thinks as he finds her gaze, willing her to read his thoughts again. 

“And where do we find such a butcher?” she asks. 

“There’s one not far from here, side road of the main one. I can show you on google maps,” the guy says. American accent, Bucky notices and wonders what he and Nat talked about at the sushi stand. 

“Oh, yes. That’d be great,” Natasha replies sweetly and brushes a strand of red hair behind her ear. The guy looks even more confused and eyes him again, and Bucky can barely suppress a smirk. 

While the guy waits for google maps to load on his phone, he looks back up at them again. “So you’re here on holiday or work and travel?”

“Holiday,” Bucky replies, feeling like he ought to talk too lest the guy should think he’s mute. 

“We’ve been travelling around a bit, and now we’re here for a few more days until we fly down to Brisbane and then head home,” Natasha explains, a bit more conversationally than Bucky.

“Ah, sounds great. Much to explore here. Did you go to the Whitsundays?” 

“Yeah, that was our last stop before coming up here,” Natasha replies and the guy nods. 

“It’s great down there. Very romantic.” 

Testing the waters. Smooth. 

“Oh!” Nat chuckles and lays an arm around Bucky’s shoulders. “We’re best friends, so... not so much romance for us. Great experience anyway.”

“Ah,” the guy’s face lights up, and Bucky does start to wonder what Nat is playing at. 

“So what are you doing here? You seem to know your way around quite well already.” 

“I’m staying with  _ my _ best friend. He’s working here for a few months,” he says, and the smile on his face grows a little bit wider again. Handsome, Bucky thinks, and can’t really blame Natasha for some benign flirting. He just hopes the poor guy isn’t getting his hopes up. 

“So anyway, the butcher’s here,” he says as he shows both Nat and Bucky the map on his phone. “They’ve got croc, too, if you want to try that. Are you planning to throw it onto the grill or fry it on the stove?”

“Stove,” Bucky replies, and then, thinking he could really try to speak in whole sentences for once, explains, “our apartment doesn’t have a barbeque.” 

“Ah, you guys doing Airbnb?” he asks and, when Natasha nods, adds, “Good choice. Much better than a hostel, though most of them are pretty great up here. So, no barbeque? Hm…” The guy studies them both for a while, lips in a lopsided smirk. “Tell you what, forget the butcher’s. You can join us tonight for a proper Aussie barbeque. The house we’re staying at has a big garden, and there’ll be a couple of people tonight. What do you say?” 

When Bucky looks over to Nat, he can see the vaguest trace of a triumphant smirk on her lips. So maybe  _ that  _ was what she’s been aiming at the whole time. She raises her brows at him in question, nodding once, and Bucky can’t deny that the offer does sound very, very tempting. And it’s not like they have anything exciting planned for tonight anyway, so he indulges her and nods back. 

“Sure, sounds cool. Thanks…” 

“Oh,” the guy says and extends his hand. “Sam.” 

Bucky and Nat shake it and introduce themselves, then Nat and Sam exchange phone numbers. He texts her the address and tells them they can show up anytime from 7 pm. A few minutes later, they’re all on their way again to buy the groceries they needed. Bucky stops between the cheeses and yoghurt and shakes his head at his best friend. 

“What? I’m just showing you how it’s done.” 

“Oh, so that’s what that just was all about?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Really Nat? The poor guy.” 

She shrugs and puts some strawberry yoghurt into her basket. “Relax. I didn’t promise him anything, and a barbeque party with some locals is just too good to pass up.” 

“How did you even know they were having a barbeque party?” Bucky finds himself staring at her in awed disbelief. Even after so many years, she can still creep him out a bit with how well she can read - and admittedly manipulate - people. 

“He was on the phone with his buddy when we were queueing for the sushi,” she explains. “And when he found us and we started chatting I thought I might give it a shot. So stop being such a moraliser. It’s free food and booze!” 

“Well okay.” He relents. “But we should definitely bring something.” 

“Yeah, alright. Let’s get some beer and…” She looks around the signs above the shelves, steering him into one with chocolate and gummy candy. “Something sweet?” 

“And ice cream,” Bucky adds. 

“Okay, we’ll bring some ice cream, too.” 

But Bucky grins at her as they pack a few bags of gummy worms and chocolate bars into their baskets. “I didn’t mean to bring it to the party. I’m planning on eating it as soon as we get home,” he says, and Nat rolls her eyes at him, an indulgent smile on her lips. 

“Fine, ruin your appetite for tonight then. More crocodile and kangaroo for me.” 

“You should know me too well by now than to think ice cream can ruin my appetite.”

“You’re right. My mistake,” she replies, amused. 

“Just so you know,” Bucky starts a while later, on their way to the ice cream freezer, “I’m so telling Clint that you flirted with some poor guy to get us invited to a party.” 

“And he’ll thank me for it because he sure as hell knows you could use a bit of contact with other human beings that aren’t him or me,” she replies deadpan. 

Bucky has to suppress a sigh as he searches for the ice cream he meant to buy. He knows she’s right, too. He’s become a bit of a hermit lately, not nearly as much fun as… before. The whole idea to take him on this holiday might have had a lot to do with it too, and so far it has worked, he’s managed to keep his mind off of things more than he could have done back home with his shitty job and same old routine. And he’s grateful for that, he really is. 

It’s a spurt of the moment thing when he lays an arm around her and pulls her close to his side, kissing her cheek. “I kinda like contact with humans that are you and Clint, though.” 

“That’s good to know, but still,” she replies, tone more gentle than her rebuttal could have been, and she hugs him back affectionately. “Let’s see how tonight goes. You passed up your chance with that Steve guy, but maybe Sam has a gay friend,” she says, encouragingly. “Or one that’s bi,” she adds before Bucky can chime in. 

Bucky smiles at her, and even though he knows it’s not very likely, he replies, “Maybe.” He gives her one more kiss, trying to pour all his affection into it, before he opens the freezer door and takes out his salted caramel macadamia nut ice cream, releasing a triumphant sound as it lands in his basket. 

Natasha only rolls her eyes. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments and many kudos. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well. Chapter 4 is already written and only needs to be edited, and I've started working on chapter 5, too. So, I should finish this fic soon, and you can expect frequent updates :)

“Hm, this looks nicer than I expected.” 

“What  _ did _ you expect?” Bucky asks, giving Natasha a sidewards glance and receiving a slow shrug in return. 

“Their building quality here _ is _ a bit backwards.” 

Natasha leans forwards and presses the doorbell button one more time. There is music coming from inside the, admittedly, really rather  _ nice _ house. It seems to be older than most houses in the street but well-kept, the wooden planes painted in a lively yet slightly chipped shade of turquoise; the windows on both full storeys are framed with yellow, and a large dormer window is overlooking the street from the attic floor. There are plants and trees at the front yard, a bit overgrown and wild, but they make it look inviting and cosy. 

“Yeah. We’ll talk again when we travel to Russia,” Bucky says and smirks at Nat whose brows rise as she looks back at him.

“You want to travel to Mother Russia with me?” 

Bucky lets out a soft snort. “Yeah. If I ever have any money again maybe.” 

“We don’t have to go that far to see run-down buildings. Tennessee will do.” 

“Whatever would I want to go to Tennessee for?” Bucky asks, but Nat doesn’t get to answer. The door opens at last and Sam stands there a bit breathless. “Sorry, we’re at the back, getting the barbeque ready. How many times did you ring?” 

“Oh, just about five or so,” Natasha smiles close-lipped at him, and Sam looks even more apologetic. 

“Sorry.”

“She’s kidding,” Bucky quickly interjects. “It was only three times.” 

“Oh, well, then it’s fine,” Sam laughs and holds the door open wider, motioning them in with a wave of his arm. 

“We brought beer,” Nat says as she holds up one of the two six-packs they’re carrying, and Sam gives her a smile. 

“Cool. Kitchen’s over here,” he says, leading them to the second door on the left of the open hallway, and Bucky can already spot that the decor of the house very much matches its outside. A bit of hippie combined with surfer chic, if he wants to find a name for it, random and charmingly mismatched items all around, and many photos on the walls. 

“Everyone else is outside… I think. It’s kinda a big crowd that lives here. I’ll introduce y’all in a bit,” he says as they put the beer bottles in the large fridge, packed with food and many items with various post-it labels on them. Although Bucky hasn’t met any of the others he’s a tiny bit envious, thinking that it must be fun living in a house with lots of people your age from all around the world. He still has three years to apply for a work and travel visa, should he ever decide to do it, and the thought stays with him as Sam leads them outside, through the connected living room into the garden of the house. 

There are fairy lights and lanterns providing enough light in the darkness of the evening to make out the people sitting at the table and standing around the grill: a girl with long brown hair, and three guys in surfer shorts and t-shirts. Then his heart skips a beat and every conscious thought leaves him as he spots a tall and very familiar figure turning around from the barbeque in that very moment and looking at them. He’s clad only in shorts, barefoot and bare-chested, and there’s a smudge of charcoal up his neck and on the side of his face as his dumbfounded expression makes room for a wide, surprised and radiant smile. 

Bucky can only release a pathetic, ridiculous whimper. He’s glad Natasha’s laugh is loud enough to camouflage it. 

“Bucky?” Steve asks, and Bucky has to mentally slap himself - again - to get out a response that isn’t another whimper. He half wishes somebody would give Steve a goddamn shirt and is half grateful nobody does. 

“Hi.” 

“That’s a surprise,” Steve says, the smile on his face still incredulous and pleased. “And… Natasha, was it?” 

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Sam asks. 

“Yeah, they went diving with us just yesterday,” Steve replies.  He turns his head towards the shed behind him, stopping halfway, his eyes refusing to leave Bucky for a second longer before he turns around fully. “Hey Thor, look who’s visiting us tonight!”

A smiling face framed with blond hair peeks out from inside a small garden shed, and as he emerges, walking backwards, he’s holding a crate with candles and garden lamps in his big arms. His face displays the same kind of pleasant surprise, and he immediately sets the crate down, coming towards them with his hand outstretched to shake first Nat’s, then Bucky’s to welcome them. 

It’s his house, they learn, but he’s been having backpackers as house guests for ages. They soon see another familiar face, the young woman who also worked on the boat and whose name is Sharon, and Bucky can’t help but remember the familiar and affectionate way she and Steve interacted then. 

The other people currently living there are two siblings from some Eastern European country or region Bucky has never heard of: Wanda and Pietro, a guy from Kenya named T’Challa, and an American named Scott who’s definitely too old to be a backpacker on a work and travel visa but who’s there nevertheless. He shrugs awkwardly when Nat asks him what exactly brings him to Australia and doesn’t reply. 

“Complicated story,” Steve whispers and grins as the crowd dissolves and everybody gets back to their business whether that’s preparing the meal or decorating the garden. 

There’s a long pause during which Bucky doesn’t reply anything and Steve just looks at him, that warm smile still there but softer now. “Seriously, wow… I had no idea when Sam said he invited some American tourists. Should have asked for your names.” 

_ Speak, Bucky. Move your lips and produce sound. Vowels, consonants. You can do this. You used to be good at this. _

“Yeah, funny, huh?” 

Well, it’s a start. 

“It’s amazing,” Steve replies. What actually  _ is _ amazing is how blue his eyes still look even in the rather dim light out here. 

“You… you’ve got something there, by the way. Coal,” Bucky says, pointing towards Steve’s face and watching his hand shoot up to rub his cheek. 

“Oh,” Steve laughs softly. “Yeah. I was getting the grill ready before you guys arrived. Let me go wash that off. Did Sam tell you where the drinks are? Want me to bring something back for you?” 

“Uh, yeah. A beer? Thank you.” 

Steve smiles and nods, then jogs two, three steps to the veranda and back into the house, and Bucky is glad to be able to catch his breath for a moment and get his wits together. 

Natasha, perceptive as she is, comes closer (where did  _ she _ get a beer?) and leans in next to him. “There’s your second chance, loverboy.” 

Bucky has to roll his eyes instantly, although, yes, he has started believing in or hoping for a second chance with Steve, there’s no denying. “Yeah, that is if he’s not dating Sharon. Or… just straight.” 

“I’m gonna find out in a minute,” Nat replies and shrugs softly, “well, the former at least. But I kinda don’t think they are. And I also think he does like you. Did you see that grin all over his face when he saw you? I didn’t get that kinda grin from him.”

“You also didn’t go diving with him. So he could simply be friendly,” Bucky replies, not wanting to get his hopes up too much but clinging onto them nevertheless. 

Nat shrugs again. Then her gaze travels back to the group. “But did you see that T’Challa guy? What a sight for sore eyes. Damn, sometimes I wish I was single.”

“Wow, Nat. I am so telling Clint you said that, and this time I mean it,” he threatens, not really meaning it because he knows  _ she  _ doesn’t really mean it. As expected, she doesn’t say anything in her defence either. 

When Steve returns and everyone has a drink in their hands, they stand together and Thor makes a toast to old and new friends. Bucky can’t help but think that he has something slightly pompous about him, in the best and most endearing way, but he does remind him of some old Viking warrior, who, funnily, speaks with a broad Australian accent. He learns later that Thor’s parents are from Norway, which explains the name, but that he was born and raised here. Sharon is from California and has been working with Thor for six months now. Steve has only been here for three, but that doesn’t answer anything (and Nat also hasn’t found a subtle way to squeeze that information out of her yet). 

Nor do the conversations they have as they’re eating, but they’re all certainly entertaining and interesting. T’Challa is, apparently, filthily rich, but he’s modest and very proud of his family’s heritage. He has a degree in political science and he’s worked at a sanctuary for big cats back in his home country. Bucky is rather impressed when he shows them pictures of a black panther cub nibbling on T’Challa’s large hands as its teething. And yes, he  _ is _ rather attractive, Bucky has to give Nat that. 

Wanda is quiet and shy, so Bucky has no idea what she does yet, but her brother studies sports and is apparently a very fast runner. 

Sam, as it seems, is rather interested in Nat. At least Bucky can tell from the way he pays her more attention to her than to Bucky, or to any of the other two women, and he’s relieved when Nat ends the charade by telling the group that she and her boyfriend work together at a gym that specialises in adventure sports. Sam looks a little disappointed after that, but he shakes it off with smiles and focuses on some jovial banter with Steve and T’Challa instead. 

It’s a very busy, lively atmosphere among the group, and Bucky is certainly enjoying himself. The food is as great as the company, and yes, there is crocodile on the large platter of grilled meats too. Bucky likes it, as well as the salads and dips the girls have prepared, but that isn’t enough to keep him from glancing at Steve two seats away whenever he’s not looking. 

He’s on his second beer when the crowd scatters at last, and his heart nearly skips a beat when Steve gives him a smile, nodding in direction of a small bench by the garden shed. He picks up another beer for himself on his way and sits down, followed by Bucky who has to rack his brain for a moment for an opener. 

“Your friends are really great. Must be fun living here.” 

“It is,” Steve replies, opening his bottle on the edge of the bench. “I was really lucky to end up here. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the other places were great too, but this here…” His gaze turns a little warmer before he lowers it to the bottle in his hands. “It’s almost a bit like a family.”

Bucky wonders, a sudden jab of something heavy in his chest, whether Steve doesn’t have a family back home, but he doesn’t want to pry. “That’s what Nat and Clint are for me,” he says instead. 

“You two seem to be really great friends,” Steve says, smiling back up at Bucky. “I thought you two… that she was your girlfriend at first.”

Bucky disguises the squeal that wants to escape him as a nonchalant chuckle and shakes his head, grateful for the dim lights concealing the red that surely must have risen on his cheeks. He decides to grab the bull by the horns then. 

“Yeah, no. Girlfriends aren’t really my area.” 

Steve stares at him, and for a second Bucky already wonders whether he’s made a huge mistake in revealing that about himself, and in his judgement of Steve as an open-minded (and potentially interested) person. But then Steve blurts out a laugh and shakes his head, leaning backwards as he continues to laugh softly, one hand on his (now, sadly, t-shirt-covered) chest. 

“That was literally a line from Sherlock,” Steve explains as he sees Bucky’s quizzical look that doesn’t vanish at that information. “Sherlock Holmes? The BBC series with Benedict Cumberbatch?” 

“Oh,” Bucky replies. “I’ve never seen that.” 

“What?” Steve asks, incredulous. “Seriously? You definitely should. It’s amazing. I only recently started watching it, though. Sharon introduced me to it. She’s got all the episodes on her laptop.” 

Bucky’s heart sinks a bit at the mention of Sharon, but then again he’s probably being stupid. Sharon and Steve haven’t really interacted with each other differently than Steve with Sam or any of the others, all evening. If they’re actually dating they’re the most low-key couple Bucky has ever met… But that could be possible, right?

“So he says girlfriends aren’t his area… to whom?” he asks. 

“John Watson.”

“And what does he reply?”

Steve grins and then lowers his gaze again before he brings it back up, looking right into Bucky’s eyes who feels a small shiver run down his spine. “Do you have a boyfriend then?” 

“No,” Bucky replies automatically, returning the grin as he sees it quirk a little further upwards around Steve’s mouth. 

“I could continue with the dialogue, but that’d be stretching it a bit. Plus I don’t really remember every line.” 

“No, I want to know. What does Watson say then?” Bucky asks, suddenly feeling like this is the best kind of conversation they could have had, and patient enough to keep the outward topic of it going. 

“Well he says something like ‘so we’re both single’, or ‘you’re single, just like me’,” Steve replies, and yes, there’s that look in his eyes again, that tiny smirk around his lips that tells Bucky he’s really not just quoting a TV show here. 

“Seems like we are,” he says before he brings his bottle to his lips. Steve’s eyes are fixed on them then, and it sends a pleasant shiver right through Bucky’s middle. 

“So…” Bucky starts slowly, and he sees  Steve’s eyes light up with an unmistakable spark of expectation. It’s definitely there, Bucky definitely knows in which direction they’re heading now, and the awareness spreads in his stomach and chest like there’s a bunch of proverbial butterflies fluttering inside him. “What other TV shows do you like?” 

Steve lets out a low chuckle and averts his gaze. He probably expected something different, and maybe it’s a bit cruel to keep him on tenterhooks like this, but Bucky’s finally found his confidence again, and it’s a feeling that is both old-familiar and brand new to him. He wants to enjoy it for a little while longer. 

“Uh… How to Get Away with Murder,” Steve replies. “The 100, Game of Thrones--” 

“Oh, Game of Thrones is starting again now, right? I’ll have to catch up when I get back home,” Bucky says, and just like that they start talking about the show, about their favourites and the things they enjoyed as well as those they didn’t. 

Wanda joins in for a few minutes as she offers them both a new beer, but then she leaves and sits back down on the lawn chair next to the table with the others, and the only ones who glance in their direction - twice, as far as Bucky can tell when he looks over - are Nat and Sam, knowing and encouraging, and Bucky has to laugh, not really minding them hanging on the edge of their seats as long as Steve isn’t either. But he has his back turned towards the group and his eyes fixed on Bucky, gaze going to his eyes when he smiles and to his lips when the smile fades and turns into a look that’d be hard to misinterpret. 

“I wanted to say something to you on the boat,” Steve starts after a pause, not long enough to feel uncomfortable. 

“Did you?” 

Steve nods and huffs out a soft laugh. “Yeah. But we’re not exactly supposed to flirt with the customers. Which I’m kinda crap at anyway.” 

“Hey, so far you’re doing good,” Bucky replies, just so managing to suppress an excited giggle rising in his throat. 

“You think?” Steve replies, and his brows go up a bit, a close-lipped smile making him seem both daring and shy. “If that was true I’d have told you about an hour ago that I can’t stop thinking about kissing you ever since you got here.” 

Bucky tries to find something nonchalant to reply, but all he can do is let out a breath that is a voiceless gasp. Their gazes are locked, and Bucky can’t tell how long they stay like that, sitting only inches apart, their upper bodies turned towards each other. Steve’s lips part slightly, his gaze leaving Bucky’s to go back down to his mouth, and Bucky can’t wait any longer, feels his heart hammering in his chest and that tingling feeling in his middle intensify as he leans in and crosses the last remaining distance between them. 

Steve’s lips are warm and soft, so much softer than he could have imagined, and there’s a soft intake of breath when they touch, light and careful, and it’s already making Bucky lightheaded. Then, Steve withdraws slowly, leaving it at that first delicate impression of what kissing Steve could be like.

“Yeah, we definitely should have done that an hour ago,” Bucky finally manages to say, and Steve huffs out a soft laugh, looking at Bucky like he can’t t wait to kiss him again. “Or yesterday, even,” Bucky continues, feeling elated and jaunty. 

“I hope you’re suggesting on the boat, because, just so you know, kissing while scuba diving is not recommended,” Steve says, joining in the playful mood. “At least not for prolonged periods.” 

Bucky lets out a chuckle, grinning at Steve and biting his lower lip around it. “Do they teach you that at scuba instructor school?”

“Yeah. Right before the secret initiation where you have to go diving in the nude.” 

“What?” Bucky asks with an incredulous laugh, and Steve shakes his head. 

“Sorry, that’s… uh, a kind of inside joke. I didn’t have to go diving naked.” 

“That’s a shame, though,” Bucky replies, and they both laugh softly again. He enjoys this, almost as much as he would another kiss. It feels so easy to joke around with Steve, to talk to him, completely natural after the initial tiptoeing, but except for the question on whether there was any interest there wasn’t much of that in the first place. 

“Maybe I can make an exception for you some time,” he says, and although it’s just a joke the thought send pleasant shivers down Bucky’s spine. 

“So is that like your main profession?” He asks to bring the conversation back to safer grounds. 

“What? Swimming around naked for tourists?” 

“You’re such a punk, you know that?” 

Steve only smirks at that. “I never had a main profession. I just finished art school before I came here.” 

“Art? Oh wow,” Bucky says. “Like art history or…”

“No, actual fine arts. Doing paintings and sculptures and stuff. Though history is a part of it, yeah,” Steve replies, and he looks a bit shy now, modest and self-deprecating as he looks up at Bucky with his head slightly lowered.

“That’s amazing. I’m lucky if I can draw a stick-figure,” Bucky says, and it’s not even a lie, which makes Steve chuckle again. 

“What do you do then?” 

“Something really boring,” Bucky replies, unable to stop his eyes from rolling as he shrugs. “Got a B.A. in business and worked for a company that produces fiber optics and stuff. But as of now I’m unemployed.”

“Oh,” Steve replies, sympathy on his features. “That sucks.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Nat and Clint have already offered me a job. So that’ll keep me above the water until I find something new. I hated that job anyway.”

“Oh well, then it’s better to let it go and find something you enjoy,” Steve says, the smile returning to his face, and it is such an optimistic and simple truth that it makes Bucky wonder again why it took him so long to come to that conclusion. In many regards. 

“You’re right,” he says and, after another swig of his beer, slides a tiny bit closer. “Speaking of things I enjoy…” 

Steve catches his hint immediately, a tiny smirk around the corner of his mouth, and Bucky feels his heart speed up again in anticipation. It’s just a second or two later, when Steve finally leans in, his warm lips on Bucky’s once more, and same as before, gentle, almost tentative.

But then Steve lays his hand around Bucky’s shoulder, fingers at the nape of his neck as he pulls him in closer and kisses him properly. Their lips part and the tips of their tongues meet, and for a moment Bucky thinks he can’t breathe from excitement, from the way his heart thuds and from the shivers that run through him, and although this second kiss has lasted mere seconds he can tell that Steve is an amazing kisser. The contact is intense and gentle at the same time, Steve kisses him with a devotion that is, in a word, breathtaking. Stunning even. Like he’s pouring every bit of attraction he has - they both have - felt throughout the evening into the contact, and it makes Bucky go weak in his limbs and glad that he’s sitting. 

He’s forgotten that there are other people around, but after a while he hears someone whooping and a low whistle from another person. They both have to laugh into the kiss, breaking it reluctantly, and Steve’s hand is on the side of Bucky’s face now, his forehead touching his for a moment before his lips purse and brush a feather-light, short kiss against Bucky’s own. He clears his throat and turns around to the others, probably giving Sam a stern look who just grins and shouts, “Get a room, you two!” 

Steve turns back around to Bucky, a smirk on his lips and brows risen in question, and Bucky finds himself nodding quicker than he would have thought. When they get up from the bench, Steve takes his hand and leads him back up the patio and into the house. There are more cheering sounds from the group, and it’s a bit awkward and ridiculous, but Bucky finds that he couldn’t care less. Those tingles in his middle stay with him all the way up the stairs, concentrating somewhere deeper now as the first heralds of arousal. 

Steve’s room is facing the front of the house; there are two beds inside, a queen and a single, but Bucky doesn’t pay the rest of the interior much attention. He’s back in Steve’s arms, standing next to the larger of the two beds. Those amazing lips are on his again, kissing him slowly, and he can’t help but release a trembling moan into the contact. 

It’s been just so incredibly long since anybody has touched and kissed him like that; in fact, Bucky can’t even really remember whether it  _ has _ felt like that at all, at the beginning with… He doesn’t want to think of that now, and so he kisses Steve back more fiercely and impatiently as he pushes him towards the bed. They sink onto the mattress together, knees first without their lips parting, and Bucky pulls Steve down above him. 

It’s no surprise to him all things considered that he has no control over the reactions of his body; his hips push forward almost on their own accord, and, yes, he’s half-hard already just from those kisses that he can’t get enough of. 

There’s a soft sound coming from Steve, a deep hum that vibrates against Bucky’s bottom lip. He must have felt it where their lower bodies are touching. Steve breaks the kiss slowly, his breath lingering on Bucky’s lips, warm and like a deliberate caress. His hand is on Bucky’s cheek just like earlier, and then he continues to kiss him, the corner of his mouth, his cheek, chin, jaw. 

Bucky briefly thinks that he should have shaved before they got here, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind the evening stubble, not in the least. He devotes long moments to kissing Bucky’s face, then down his neck as he leans above him. One hand rests lightly on the waistband of his shorts, thumb brushing over his skin where his t-shirt rode up, and it sends more of those shivers all over Bucky’s stomach and back. Steve definitely doesn't seem to be one to take things fast, though where exactly he does want to take them, Bucky doesn’t know. 

Steve hums again,  _ sighs _ against a spot somewhere below Bucky’s ear. “God, you smell so good,” he says in a soft, low voice and kisses his skin again, nibbling gently and briefly on the spot before he lifts his head and looks down into Bucky’s eyes. There’s an expression on Steve’s face that makes his breath catch in his throat. It’s soft, as everything about the way he’s been around him so far, something adoring that makes Bucky wonder how he even deserves something that seems so genuine, so real, and so much more than he could have anticipated. 

Steve brings his lips back down to his, and although the kiss is growing more intense there’s the same kind of gentle adoration in it. And suddenly, very suddenly, something shifts inside Bucky, something grips him, ice-cold, and he finds himself breathless in a completely different way, chest tight and constricting. He can’t explain it, has no idea where it came from and how it crept up on him so unexpectedly and violently, but it’s there, it’s making his heart beat with sudden panic that he can’t shake, can’t grasp and make sense of. 

He barely notices how Steve draws away from him slowly and looks down, concern in his gaze. “You okay?” 

But Bucky can’t reply, that feeling sitting on his chest like a heavy weight, and he has to close his eyes and mentally count to three to force himself to regain his breath. He scrambles up from underneath Steve, to his feet and almost stumbles. He needs to breathe. He needs to get a grip on himself and stop the hammering of his heart, and he manages it barely when his hand grips the bedpost so hard it hurts. 

“Hey Bucky, what’s… what’s the matter?” Steve is full of concern and confusion, so much he can tell, though he can barely look at him, still fighting that feeling of panic in his chest. He can barely control it, only just prevent himself from breaking down as he forces himself to breath. Another feeling stirs up, one of embarrassment, and it’s hardly more pleasant than the other. 

“I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t,” he just stammers, not wanting to have to say this, not wanting to feel this way and not understanding at all how things changed so suddenly and drastically. He was fine, they were fine just moments ago. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Steve asks, and he sounds shocked and worried at the same time, and Bucky wants to slap himself, jolt himself back to his senses so he can at least not make another person feel so bad. 

“N-no,” he only gets out as he moves towards the door on shaky legs. “No. I’m sorry, I don’t… I’m sorry,” is all he can say before he storms out, back down the stairs and, after a second’s consideration, out the front door instead of the back. There’s no reason to embarrass himself and Steve in front of all his friends. 

Once he meets the now cooler night air, the constricting feeling in his chest fades somewhat, slowly but gradually, and he takes out his phone. 

_ I need to go home rn.  _

_ I’m in front of the house.  _

Steve hasn’t followed him so far, and during the minutes it takes - no more than two or three - for Nat to get here, he mentally keeps his fingers crossed that it stays that way. It does because the next thing he hears from the house is the gate in the garden fence opening, and then he sees Nat rushing towards him, worry on her face that makes him think of Steve again and wonder what he must be thinking right now. 

“Bucky, what’s wrong? What happened?” 

And oh God, this is so much worse, because he fears the direction her thoughts might be going, and her thinking that Steve could be anything like… like  _ him _ is the worst of all. He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just… One moment everything was fine and then I couldn’t breathe anymore.”

Her brow furrows and she lays a hand on his upper arm, searching for his gaze and trying to keep it focused on hers. “You couldn’t breathe?” 

“Yeah. It was like…” It’s still hard to breathe evenly, and Bucky has to close his eyes again, inhaling more sharply than calmly as he intended.  “I don’t know. I thought I could do this, but I can’t, Nat. I just can’t. Oh God.” His chest tightens again, and he feels a stinging in his eyes that makes him frustrated and ashamed for how he’s acting and every ridiculous thing he’s feeling right now. 

“Shh, just breathe, okay? It’s fine,” Nat says calmly, hand stroking his arm in a reassuring gesture. “I think you were having a panic attack. It’s not your fault. It happens. Just breathe, deep and calm. And I’m gonna call us a taxi.” 

It helps a little, both her familiar, calming voice and the touch of her hand, and Bucky continues taking deep breaths while she speaks with the taxi central. He barely registers how she slowly leads him towards the main road and away from the house as she ends the call.

“God, Nat, what did they think? What… I don’t want them to think Steve did something wrong,” he says, and the urgency in his own voice makes him feel even worse again, embarrassed and guilty, stupid and weak. He barely recognises himself like that. 

“Don’t worry,” Nat says and types something on her phone. “I’m texting Sam. So don’t beat yourself up, it’s okay.”

Only it’s not. The feeling of shame and guilt stays with him when the taxi arrives at the corner, blessedly only five minutes later, and all the way back to their apartment. And what comes later when he’s lying in bed, Natasha snuggled up against his back and her arm around him protectively and comfortingly, is a feeling of regret for having ruined a great chance, and he wonders if the whole business seven months ago has fucked him up for life, much more than he ever would have thought. 

It’s the thought that remains when he finally falls asleep what feels like hours later. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fourth of definitely six chapters now (well, the last one will be an epilogue).   
> Thank you all so much for your sweet comments! And big thanks again to my beta-reader Indigo for doing such an amazing job.   
> I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, but I daresay that you might, and more so than the last ;)

The sound of rain is the only one filling the living room. Thick droplets of water patter against the window panes and sills, and the light of the floor lamp is dim, making it hard for Bucky to keep his eyes open as he lies on the couch. 

He didn’t get much sleep last night, and in the morning he was woken up by the strong tropical showers that have persisted all throughout the day until the early afternoon. He and Nat considered going on another tour today, but with the weather as abysmal as it is there’s hardly a worthwhile activity left other than slacking around in their apartment. 

He does doze off eventually, but odd dreams chase him - of his old job, the office under water for some reason and his boss holding him responsible for it. When he comes to probably not long after he fell asleep, he rubs his eyes and blames it all on the rain and his general doubtful, guilty mood. 

He’s closed his eyes again, just for a few more minutes, he’s telling himself, when he hears the wooden floorboards creak softly and steps come closer. He opens his eyes again and finds Nat crouching in front of the couch, a mug in her hand and a small smile on her lips. 

“I made coffee. Want some?” 

He returns the smile although he can’t quite feel it, and he makes himself sit up to take the mug from her. “Thanks.” 

She sits down at the other end of the couch, taking a mug of her own from the coffee table and sipping on it in silence for a while. But he can feel her gaze on him, concern in it whenever he looks up at her. 

“Talk to me,” she says eventually, and Bucky lets out a low, slow sigh. 

“I dreamed I flooded my old office,” he replies. 

She gives him a small chuckle and reaches over to pat his lower leg, her hand staying on it with a warm and caring touch. 

“Sam texted me to ask if you’re okay. But I think that was really Steve asking through him.” 

Bucky lets out another breath to release the slightly constricting feeling in his chest, and he’s feeling even worse for knowing Steve isn’t angry but actually worried. 

“I’m such a douchebag.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Nat returns in all seriousness, and yes, Bucky thinks, he’s probably that too, though he has a feeling she means it differently than he does. 

“You’re an idiot to think that a reaction that’s beyond your control makes you a douchebag.” 

“I’m an idiot for having a stupid panic attack just because a hot and really  _ nice _ guy is making out with me,” he retorts firmly, not wanting to forgive himself so easily. 

“What part of ‘beyond your control’ did you not understand?” she continues, insistently. “If it’s anyone’s fault then it’s--”

“Yeah I know,” he cuts her off, his voice rising above her gentle tone, because he still doesn’t want to hear the name. “But still. I could have handled it better.” 

“I don’t think you could have, because then that’s what you would have done,” she says, and Bucky can’t find anything to object. 

He just sighs again and takes another sip of his coffee. 

“But if you feel this bad about it all then maybe you should go talk to him. Explain what happened and that it’s not his fault,” Nat suggests after a long pause, and the look on her face is full of gentle encouragement. 

“I don’t think I can look him in the eye again,” he admits, embarrassment sitting somewhere deep in his gut and making it feel tight and heavy. “Plus, what’s the point of it really? I mean it’s not like this… meant anything.” There’s an odd feeling as soon as he speaks those words joining the first that he can’t quite place. 

Nat just looks at him patiently as if she wants him to come to a conclusion, and Bucky has to evade the gaze and focus on his half empty coffee mug instead. 

The train of thought she has set in motion stays with him, though, and when Nat goes back into the kitchen to wash up their mugs he mulls it over again and again. Steve really was nice, pleasant, kind and sweet, and even though all of this was just supposed to be a casual holiday fling it’s not right to leave something like that so unresolved. Bucky would feel awful, too, if he was in Steve’s place and he’d like to know it really hadn’t been his fault. 

And so, an hour later, he’s standing in front of the familiar house, looking back over his shoulder as Nat drives off with their rental to do some shopping. Sam told her that Steve is at home, though Bucky has not announced his visit, and for a long moment he just stands there and considers bailing after all and simply waiting at the next corner for Nat to come back. At least it’s stopped raining. 

It’d be really pathetically lame of him, though, and so he musters up all his courage and rings the doorbell. 

It doesn’t take long until the door opens. It’s Wanda, looking at him with a mix of surprise, concern and delight, and for a moment he feels even worse because… isn’t anybody mad at him for having been such a jerk last night? 

“Bucky, hi.” 

“Hey. Um… is Steve at home?” he asks, and it’s barely a second later when he sees him emerge from the kitchen. His brows are drawn up and furrowed in a similar concerned and surprised expression as he steps closer, and Wanda excuses herself, heading back into the kitchen. 

Bucky feels his throat constrict with a sensation not unlike those first moments of panic last night, and he has to swallow before he can look Steve in the eye properly. “I… I guess I owe you an apology and an explanation,” he gets out at last. 

Steve still hasn’t said a word, but he nods and looks back in direction of the living room. There are voices coming from inside, and from upstairs he can hear a vacuum cleaner running. Steve turns back towards him and steps out of the door. 

“That way,” he says and leads Bucky down the steps and to the garden fence where, on the right side of the house, there are some boulders between the plants and trees. “They’re still wet from the rain,” Steve says apologetically and gives Bucky a thin smile. “But anywhere else is a bit noisy right now.” 

Bucky just nods and tries to return the smile, though the knot is still there in his stomach when they both sit down and Steve patiently waits for him to start. He looks down at his hands on his lap, the thumb of his right scratching the inside of his palm with enough pressure to force him to focus on the mild pain instead of the turmoil in his middle. 

“First of all, I want you to know that none of it was your fault,” he starts then. “It’s… ah… a bit of a long story, really. But you did nothing wrong.” 

“Okay,” Steve says, and when Bucky looks up at him very briefly he sees that small, still slightly troubled smile turn a tiny bit more confident. Jesus, he really feels so awful right now for knowing that Steve probably  _ did  _ consider he somehow was responsible for Bucky’s reaction.

“It’s just that… I don’t really know how it all happened because I’ve never had something like that happen to me before. But I guess, I dunno, it was some kind of panic attack or something. Which is really fucking stupid,” Bucky continues, fighting to keep his voice even despite the tremor in his chest. He takes a deep breath when Steve doesn’t say anything and just listens patiently. 

“My last boyfriend was a real jackass. Things didn’t really end so well between us, and in hindsight they were never all that great to begin with. He was… intense. And not even as attractive as I initially thought.” Bucky releases a joyless chuckle. It all sounds so strange even in his own mind, and he wonders, as he has often before, what exactly made him fall in love then. 

“He had something about him that was really captivating and irresistible when I first met him, so I fell for it, for him and didn’t notice what an asshole Brock was before it was way too late.” Bucky only notices then that he’s actually said the name out loud, and there is a weird feeling in his chest somewhere between panic and pride that it hasn’t broken him or made him sick to his stomach. 

“So yeah, like I said, it didn’t really end well with him. He was really possessive and jealous, and one night after some partying he was really drunk and… We got into a fight because he wanted to sleep with me and I didn’t, drunk as he was.”

Bucky hears Steve inhale sharply, and when he finds his gaze again he sees a look of utter alarm and sympathy, and Bucky quickly continues. “Oh no, no, it was nothing like that. No. He didn’t… He just, well,  _ just _ hit me.” 

“Wow, that’s… I’m sorry,” Steve says sympathetically, and Bucky can’t even bear to see the look in his blue eyes. 

“Yeah, you’ll be more sorry to hear that I took him back after he apologised endlessly and swore he wouldn’t drink so much anymore. That was really stupid, because it happened again, of course.” 

“You want to see the best in people. That’s not stupid,” Steve says understandingly and Bucky can’t help but feel a small smile quirk around his lips then. 

“Well, maybe. But it  _ is _ incredibly naive.” 

“Probably,” Steve shrugs and smiles, though the concerned look is still there on his features. “You did break it up after that, though?” 

“Oh, yeah. Twice was enough. Once should have been, but yeah. I broke it off. And that was seven months ago and I haven’t been with anybody since then.” 

“That’s understandable,” Steve says, and God, why does he need to be so kind and understanding?

“Sorry, I shouldn’t dump this all on you like this,” Bucky apologises, though it does feel like a heavy weight has dropped off his shoulders. It’s the first time he’s ever told anyone except for Nat and Clint when it happened. The constricting feeling in his chest and stomach have faded, too, and he feels a whole lot lighter. 

“It’s fine, Bucky. I appreciate you telling me all this.” 

Bucky lets out a soft, slightly guilty chuckle, shaking his head. “You know, it’s not that I thought you were like him. That I think every guy I meet is like that. And you’re definitely not, I mean… I can tell. You’re really very, very much the exact opposite of everything he was. But still, I shouldn’t… make such a huge drama out of what could have been a nice vacation fling and bother you will all of this.” 

There’s an odd look on Steve’s face then, and Bucky only notices that he has leaned a bit closer to him, one hand just inches from where Bucky’s is resting on the side of the boulder, when Steve sits back and takes a slow breath. 

“I mean,” Bucky continues, “this here was different. It’s not like we’re about to enter a relationship with you being here in Australia and me living in New York, so I don’t know why I panicked  _ that _ much.” 

“I’m going home in six weeks.” The words are out even before Bucky has finished his last sentence, and for a moment, he can only stare at Steve. 

“What?” 

Steve lets out a soft laugh, somewhat shy as he lowers his gaze before he brings it back up slowly. “I’ve got one more week here and then I’m travelling around with Sam before we head back home.” 

“Oh,” is all Bucky can reply, wondering what that means and why Steve seems so insistent on telling him this. “But… this was… and I’m…” 

“Not interested in a relationship, I know. It’s fine. Nevermind,” Steve says, and the deliberate smile he gives him definitely doesn’t reach his eyes. 

Bucky is actually a bit dumbfounded for a moment, and again, he can only stare at Steve. “But you’ve only known me two days. And I’m full of emotional baggage.”  _ How could anyone like you possible be interested in me beyond a one night stand _ , he wants to add but doesn’t. 

Steve seems genuinely flustered now. He runs a hand through his hair at the back of his head and shrugs again. “Like I said, nevermind.” 

“No, no, no, wait a second,” Bucky says quickly, his throat constricting this time with a feeling that is rather the opposite of his earlier guilt and shame. “What exactly  _ did _ you have in mind before I made an ass out of myself and fled?”

“I don’t know,” Steve replies, biting his lower lip briefly. “I just know I liked you, liked talking to you. I wanted to… I thought maybe we could stay in touch and see where things were headed.”

“Where do you even live back in the States?” Bucky asks, still not fully processing what he’s heard. 

“New York. Brooklyn,” Steve replies around a tiny, hopeful smile, and there it is again, that fluttering feeling in Bucky’s chest that makes him light-headed. 

“But that… you wanting to see where things go was before I acted like a complete idiot?” 

“That still is, now.”

He must look really dumb right now, Bucky thinks, as he’s once again staring at Steve, but if that’s what it takes to make Steve’s smile grow brighter he’s gladly going to make that sacrifice. 

“Wow. I thought I was the crazy one here, but it’s actually you,” he says then, giddy and daring, and it brings just the right result as Steve laughs, low and soft as he’s heard it from him last night so often, and Bucky realises he can’t really get enough of that sound. 

It probably wasn’t supposed to be something casual to begin with, as ridiculous as that seems in light of all the facts combined. Then again, it makes perfect sense, and in hindsight Bucky wonders why he hasn’t fully realised this before, hasn’t seen it coming, because his casual pickups have never included so many conversations, so many smiles and certainly never so many ridiculous butterflies in his stomach. 

He just still doesn’t fully know what to do with this information, though kissing Steve is very much on the forefront of his mind. 

It seems that Steve’s thoughts are going in the very same direction. He’s leant forward, upper body turned towards Bucky and his gaze going from Bucky’s eyes to his lips. All Bucky has to do is lean in, looking into Steve’s eyes before, at last, their lips touch. It feels even more wonderful than how that first tentative kiss last night has felt, gentle and slow and with the faint taste of berries and sugar on Steve’s lips. 

It doesn’t last very long and Steve withdraws slowly, but he’s reached for Bucky’s hand and holds it in his, thumb brushing over his skin. “So… is that a yes?”

“To staying in touch and seeing where things go?” Bucky asks and Steve nods, though both question and answer feel a bit redundant. He gives it anyway. “That’s definitely a yes.” 

Steve smiles again, wide and radiant, and a small huff of breath escapes him before he leans in once more to kiss Bucky. “Wanna go inside?” he asks as he slowly breaks the kiss. 

“Yeah, good idea,” Bucky says, and the small laugh that escapes him is bubbly and light. “This boulder is kinda uncomfortable. I can’t feel my ass.”

“Lucky,” Steve replies. “Mine’s all wet.” 

They both laugh, and Bucky wraps his arms around Steve, feeling him return the embrace tightly but gently for a long moment. Another soft kiss follows, and he can feel that Steve is as reluctant to break it as he is. 

There are many more back inside the house, after they’ve eaten a slice of the freshly baked blueberry crumble and the others have given them some privacy in the kitchen (which unfortunately includes them having to clean it, but Bucky isn’t really complaining). And there are even more of them when, later, they return to Steve’s room and lie on the bed, unhurried and tender kisses that make him feel a bit like a teenager again, especially when Sam knocks at the door and tells them dinner is ready for them if they’re willing to stop making out already. 

It’s very easy to forget the shaky start.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the delay, but beta-readers are sometimes busy with real life stuff ;)   
> This is the last 'proper' chapter. The next one will only be a shortish epilogue. I do hope you've enjoyed the fic so far, but looking at all your lovely comments it seems so. Thank you so, so much for that!! <3

The sun is hot, blazing down on Bucky’s skin. He wants to get back into the water, but that would involve moving, and he’s rather comfortable with how lies on the sand, soft towel underneath his back. Steve’s hand is intertwined with his while he’s lying on his front, his thumb caressing Bucky’s hand every once in a while. 

Bucky turns his head and has to blink against the brightness even through the sunglasses he’s wearing. Steve opens his eyes too, and he squints, a lazy smile on his face. 

“You know falling asleep in the sun is dangerous?” 

Steve shrugs faintly, and the smile on his lips turns into a somewhat cheeky smirk. “Lucky for me somebody spent ages applying sunscreen to my back earlier, so I really don’t think I’ll burn.” 

Bucky grins back at him and turns around to lie on his side, head propped on one hand as he lets his other wander up Steve’s arm slowly. “I think I missed a spot there,” he says, biting the inside of his lower lip as he lets his fingertips walk to the side of Steve’s back below his arm. 

Steve twitches and releases the most adorable, slightly high-pitched sound, and it makes Bucky laugh instantly. “Oh, look who’s ticklish.” 

Another sound follows as Bucky repeats the motion teasingly, but this time Steve tenses and clears his throat in an obvious impulse to fight the reflex. It doesn’t last very long before another squealing giggle escapes him, and he struggles against the attack of Bucky’s hand, finally managing to get a hold of it with his own and grasping it firmly. Instead of having his revenge - which Bucky would have fully expected - Steve pulls Bucky closer and over him as he rolls onto his back, and a second later they’re kissing again, and Bucky can’t think of anything he’d rather be doing right now. 

“Is that your strategy to escape tickle attacks?” Bucky asks when he slowly raises his head again, the shadow of his upper body shielding Steve from the sun, and he can look up without squinting. 

“It’s working, isn’t it?” he asks, leaning up to bring their lips together once more, and Bucky mentally admits that those kisses, even gentle and slow as they are, could probably distract him from pretty much anything. 

He rolls back onto his side eventually, and Steve lies propped on his lower arms, sunglasses back on. 

“If you’re too hot, though, we can find some shade under the trees,” Steve offers and nods towards the edge of the narrow beach. 

They’re on a small island just half a mile off-coast where they’ve gone with a zodiac from Thor’s dive shop. There’s a small reef surrounding the island, and they’ve done some snorkelling there, marvelling at the many varicoloured fishes and corals. It almost has a deserted island kind of feel to it, if it weren’t for the small fishing boat close-by on the water, and another motor boat lying at anchor somewhere further down the beach, a family of four enjoying the sun and the water just like them. It reminds him a bit of Whitehaven Beach, just a smaller and slightly less spectacular version of it. 

“I’m good,” he replies eventually before taking his water bottle from his backpack to have a drink, frowning just slightly at how warm it’s turned. “Wish I could stay here a bit longer, though.” 

Although Bucky can’t see Steve’s eyes, the soft smile he gets from him is sympathetic and a tiny bit regretful. Steve reaches for his hand again, caresses it gently as he weaves their fingers together. 

“I’ve gotta work tomorrow anyway,” he says, though it’s little consolation when Bucky thinks of the fact that he won’t see Steve for another six weeks after that. 

“I could have gone with you,” he says, indulging in the pleasant fantasy to fight the melancholy he’s suddenly feeling. 

Steve seems to be feeling something similar, because he pulls Bucky close again, their bodies flush against each other as he wraps his arms around him and holds him tight. When they kiss again, slow and gentle, Bucky can’t help the soft sigh escape him, and despite the slightly heavy feeling in his chest there are also tingles running down his spine and to his middle as he feels Steve’s lips against his, tip of tongue gently exploring. 

He suddenly wishes they weren’t on this beach but back in Steve’s room.

They have to break the kiss again after a while; it’s simply too hot out here to keep it up for much longer. But Steve is smiling at him, warm and adoring, as he sits up and gets back to his feet. “Come on, let’s make the most of it,” he says, hand outreached for Bucky to take it, and Bucky can’t do anything but agree. 

They do make the most of it, going for another swim and drying in the sun before it slowly starts to sink lower and they decide to take the boat back to the mainland. When they get back to the house, Nat, Sam and Wanda are back too after having gone on a small rainforest tour, and they show Steve and Bucky pictures of the waterfall they’ve seen and of a huge flock of cockatoos flying above the a clearing. It seems lovely and interesting, but Bucky wouldn’t have missed his day out on the island with Steve for nothing. 

“So,” Nat starts while the others are outside, firing up the grill and setting the table, and they are cutting tomatoes and cucumbers in the kitchen. “If you want to stay here tonight I can pack your stuff and pick you up on the way to the airport.”

Bucky feels a grin spread on his face, and maybe his cheeks heating up a little too at the implication, but what follows then is a vague feeling of anxiety, and his smile fades again. “What if I make an idiot out of myself again?”

“You haven’t made an idiot out of yourself in the first place,” Nat replies gently but insistently. “And secondly, Steve doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d expect anything of you or pressure you into it. So how about you just see where things go and enjoy the last few hours with him?”

It all sounds very reasonable, and the biggest part of him has to agree. He really can’t imagine simply going back to their accommodation after dinner and spending around twelve more hours in Steve’s direct vicinity but not with him. And so, even though the incident two nights ago has left its impact, Bucky nods and feels the smile return on his lips, if a bit hesitantly. 

Nat’s answering smile is encouraging, and she reaches up to squeeze his arm. “Good. Sam already offered to sleep on the couch if you stay, so you’ve got the room all to yourselves.”

“Wow, you care about my sex life way more than is natural, Nat,” Bucky returns, their usual playful tone back after that is settled. 

“I’m not the one who brought it up,” she says, brows going up before she focuses back on the vegetables she’s cutting, and Bucky feels the mild blush return. 

“You and Sam get along well then? No hard feelings?”

Nat snorts faintly and grins. “He’s too happy for how things turned out for Steve because of my little scheme, so no, none at all. Plus, not everybody turns into a complete lovesick puppy on first sight.” 

“Remind me why I even put up with you,” Bucky teases, feigning offense. 

“Because I’m awesome and you love me.” 

He’s got nothing to object. 

 

The evening passes much too fast. In a way, Bucky is glad because that means he can finally be alone with Steve, but it also mean that morning is coming closer. It really is a bit ridiculous how fast he’s become so attached to and enamoured of Steve, but he can’t help it, can’t help practically glowing with pride every time Steve looks at him, reaches for his hand or kisses him even while the others are present. 

In Steve’s room, they spend long minutes making up for the time they lost during the day, and Bucky does indeed feel a bit like a teenager again, same as last evening, and that’s a bit ridiculous too, considering his past experience. Ridiculous and wonderful. 

The kisses soon turn more heated, their bodies pressed close against each other. A moan comes over Bucky’s lips as he feels Steve’s hips against his, just the thin layers of their shorts separating them. 

It’s Steve who draws away then, lifting himself up on one arm and bringing a bit of distance between them, though his other hand is on the nape of Bucky’s neck, thumb brushing over his jaw. “What do you want to-- Do you want to sleep soon?”

Bucky feels somewhat awkward, a small chuckle escaping him as he lowers his gaze for a moment. “I… no, I don’t want to sleep,” he replies and looks back up into Steve’s eyes. “I definitely want to do more than sleep.” 

Steve smiles before he leans back down and covers Bucky’s lips with another kiss, slow and gentle but with an intensity that makes him feel lightheaded, like so often before. He does feel nervous, a tingling tightness in his lower belly that in no way resembles the panic from the other night. He’s much more aware of it, much more  _ in control _ of it as a result.

“It’s just been a while. I might be out of practice,” he admits, only half joking. 

Steve lets out a low, soft laugh and kisses Bucky’s cheek briefly. “I guess it’s like riding a bicycle.” 

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t ridden a bike in years,” he replies. 

“And I haven’t been with a guy in years, so…” This time, it’s Steve who both looks and sounds somewhat nervous and self-conscious, and Bucky blinks up at him in surprise, before it clicks.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Not since college,” Steve says, a tiny shrug moving his shoulders in a way that looks almost apologetic. “Only girls after that. I hope that’s… you’re okay with that?”

“Oh Steve,” Bucky sighs in sympathy, only wanting to hug Steve, and so he does. “Of course that’s okay.” He knows there are many gay guys who vow to stay away from bisexuals, and there’s a lot of prejudice against them, that they can’t make up their mind or are not ‘gay enough’ not to run off with the next best woman. Bucky also knows that that’s bullshit. 

He holds Steve’s face between his hands and leans up to kiss him tenderly, hoping to convey reassurance in the contact. It’s a relief, in a way, that they both have their insecurities, and even though he knows it’s a bit idealistic to think so, maybe there’s a reason they found each other. 

Very soon, they’re back where they left off. Steve is shimmying against Bucky, and this time there is no reluctance to let him feel just how attracted he’s to him. Bucky feels his whole body tingle with excitement, and he smiles against the contact of their lips before he breaks it slowly to reach for the hem of Steve’s t-shirt and pull it over his head. He brushes a trail of kisses down over Steve’s collarbone, his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles tense underneath his lips and a soft, slightly hoarse sigh coming from Steve’s. Soon, his own t-shirt follows, and they take their time kissing, nibbling, caressing until all that’s left are Steve’s swim shorts and Bucky’s boxer briefs that he’s changed into along with some pants after they got back. 

“So…,” he starts slowly, one hand sliding underneath the waistband of Steve’s shorts and cupping one firm buttock. “How did you picture this?” 

Steve lets out a faint laugh, that slightly shy expression on his face again that makes Bucky adore him even more. “I don’t know,” he says, his own hand going down to Bucky’s hip, thumb brushing over the front of his boxer briefs,  _ very _ close to his erection. “We could leave a few things ‘till I’m back?” 

Bucky likes,  _ loves _ the sound of that. For so many reasons: familiarising with intimacy of this kind in slow steps, no pressure to perform perfectly right now, and, most of all, having something to look forward to when they see each other again. 

He smiles and nods before he brings their lips back together, and finally, he pushes down Steve’s shorts, his hand curling around him in a gentle, exploring touch. Steve moans into the kiss, low in the back of his throat before he pulls down Bucky’s boxer briefs. With a bit of pushing and wriggling, both items lie discarded on the floor, and Bucky relishes the feeling of their bodies pressed against each other from head to toe. The hardness of Steve’s cock against his own feels amazing, and he pushes his hips forward on instinct, unable to tear himself from Steve’s lips even to have a look at him. So his hand slides down again instead, between their bodies, wrapping around their erections. 

They still lie facing one another, but the kisses soon turn open-mouthed, little moans and deeper breaths between them as they find a slow rhythm. The friction alone feels amazing, but Steve seems to have another idea on his mind when he turns Bucky onto his back and leans above him on his arms. He starts kissing his way down over Bucky’s chest, a small smirk on his lips as he looks up and wanders lower, and God, Bucky would have thought this to be one of the things Steve wanted to leave for later. He can all but release a whimpering moan, biting his lower lip, when he sees that gorgeous mouth wander down and then, Steve’s eyes locked on his, close around him. 

If it’s been years since Steve has last done this, he must be a natural. It’s the last thing he thinks consciously before he feels like he can’t think anything anymore at all, too stunned by the way Steve’s lips feel around him, too amazed by the sight of his head going down and back up slowly to even keep watching. His eyes fall shut and he presses his head into the pillow, fingers digging into the sheet. All patience seems to have left him. It goes fast, so incredibly fast from a slow burn of arousal to feeling uncontrollable sparks of it all through his body. 

“Steve, God I… Wait,” Bucky all but moans, so close already that it’s embarrassing for a grown man like him. 

Steve looks up, his lips red and lush and eyes gone dark, his hand still curled around the base of Bucky’s cock, and Bucky can’t remember ever having seen anyone look so gorgeous. “Come here,” he says, reaching a hand out for Steve to take and pull him back up into his arms. “You must be really good at riding bicycles.”

Steve laughs softly, and Bucky joins in, just catching his breath for a moment as he wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders and hides his face at the crook of his neck. 

“I want to feel you against me,” he says then, his own voice slightly hoarse before he brings their lips together for another kiss. And Steve complies, sliding between Bucky’s knees, a hand going between them to wrap around their cocks as Bucky’s done before. They slide together in Steve’s firm grasp, finding a rhythm again that soon turns faster and faster. 

Bucky holds back, holds himself back so hard to keep himself from coming just yet, because he wants Steve to get there, too. He closes his eyes, presses them firmly shut and bites his lower lip while Steve breathes warmly against his neck, kisses it, nibbles on his skin. Bucky’s fingertips dig into Steve’s back with every combined thrust of their hips, and he can soon feel Steve’s become more erratic, his breath coming out in low pants, faster and faster still. 

He can’t stop himself any longer. The muscles in his abdomen and legs tense, and he feels waves of shivers run through him as he comes, hard and way more intense than he would have thought he could from just what they’re doing. He’s not even fully aware of the long, deep, trembling moan that escapes him, his body going limp underneath Steve’s continuing movements, his hand still around them, but not for long. He hears a low, breathless groan from Steve, feels his hips jerk forward two, three times before he comes too, warmth spreading on Bucky’s belly. 

Steve sinks down, breathing hard for a few moments, his body fully on top of Bucky’s, heavy and warm and wonderful. Bucky wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulder, hands caressing him gently and kissing the side of his head as he comes down. His sweat smells fresh and clean and musky, and even though Bucky feels sticky between their upper bodies, he can’t be bothered to make himself or Steve move. 

It’s when Steve raises his head and caresses the side of Bucky’s face with the same gentle affection that’s written clearly in his eyes that Bucky realises that he is, properly and undeniably, in love. It’s both frightening and beautiful, a feeling that spreads through his chest, making it both tight and wide at the same time. 

“I don’t want to go,” is what comes over his lips then, and he curses himself for dampening the mood but can’t help the faint tingling in his eyes and nose. 

Steve gives him a gentle smile before he covers his lips with his own, reassurance in the contact that makes Bucky believe Steve doesn’t really want for them to part in the morning either. When he draws away from Bucky’s lips he picks up his phone from the nightstand. 

“We still got seven and a half hours,” he says, another small smile on his lips. 

“Yeah, but you need to work tomorrow, so you should sleep a few of those.” 

Steve shrugs and the smile turns into a small grin, optimistic and cheeky, and Bucky is really so in love with him. “I’ll be fine one day with just… say two or three.” 

“Really? You won’t fall asleep under water and get eaten by a shark?” Bucky asks, feeling his own lips curl into a small smirk. 

“We’re doing a small tour tomorrow. Just a few intro dives, and Thor and Sharon can manage that,” he replies. “Plus, sharks don’t really eat people. There’s not enough fat on us.” 

“Yeah. There isn’t even an ounce on you,” Bucky says as he lets a hand roam along Steve’s muscular back, a bit towards the side. Steve twitches slightly in alarm, and Bucky has to grin. “Lucky for you I’m no shark, because I could still eat you up.” He lets his fingertips tickle Steve just once, drawing a faint squeal from him, before he leans up and playfully bites Steve’s neck, getting a low, huffed out chuckle from Steve that turns into an almost-moan. 

“More of a clown fish,” Steve remarks and then shakes his head as if about himself before they both laugh and kiss and hold each other tight. 

Eventually, they do leave the bed to get cleaned up, and when they’re back in Steve’s room they’re just lying on the bed, facing each other and talking. Steve tells him about the places he and Sam have planned to visit in Australia and New Zealand, and Bucky tells him about Clint and Nat’s gym, about archery and rock climbing and kick boxing, and Steve says that he’s definitely going to sign up there once he’s back in New York. They make out some more, and then they talk until Bucky drifts off into sleep, somewhere in the early morning hours, not remembering what they even talked about anymore when the harsh sounds of the alarm wake them up at seven. 

It’s been one of the best nights Bucky can remember, and even though his heart feels heavy and a tiny bit achy when the taxi with Nat inside pulls up in front of the house and Bucky has to say goodbye to Steve, he’s happier than he can remember having been in a long time, too. 

And then, six weeks later, after endless texts and obsessive liking and commenting on Instagram and Facebook to every amazing photo Steve has posted, after two shaky Skype video calls when time zones or lack of wifi weren’t in the way and many aborted attempts for the same reasons, Bucky finally sees Steve again, takes him into his arms at the passenger arrivals at JFK, and the first kiss they share makes him feel like no time has passed at all. 

They’re just where they’ve left off. Steve is still warm and sweet and gorgeous, and Bucky is still ridiculously in love. 

And it’s really only just started. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, so that's it. The epilogue and with it the end of this story. I do hope you enjoyed it, that it gave you some warm, fuzzy feelings (as it did me while writing it), and maybe even that it got you interested in scuba diving ;) If you ever have the chance to do it DO! It's one of the most amazing things in the world.

The water is clear and shallow. Above, the sun is shining, casting rippling reflections onto the white sands on the ocean floor. It is a little bit cooler than Bucky remembers the water being in Australia, but he’s wearing a thicker wetsuit - one that Steve gave him for his birthday along with the promise to go on this trip to the Bahamas - and he’s feeling as comfortable as can be, much more familiar with the strange surroundings and the sensation of breathing underwater. 

It only gets a little tricky when he kneels in the sand in front of Steve and removes his diving mask, spinning it around his lower arm once before he blindly feels for the nose part to put it back on the right way. He can’t open his eyes in the saltwater; last time he tried it stung a lot, but Steve, who can open his eyes easily, didn’t make fun of him for it. With a bit of fumbling with the elastic band and blowing water out of the mask it is back on and perfectly in place, and Steve makes a small clapping motion with his hands. As far as Bucky remembers, this was the last skill they were supposed to practice on his final exam dive. 

Steve asks for the remaining pressure in Bucky’s bottle, and he signs the number back at him as he’s learned. While the mandatory part is over, they still have enough left to go exploring, and so they start swimming in direction of the small coral formations, many colourful fish already visible around them. It’s the part he’s looked forward to the most, to experience again what he did for the very first time with Steve, almost a year ago. And what an amazing year it’s been. 

Bucky can’t deny that he hadn’t felt worried before Steve came back and a short time after. Worried that the first euphoria of being newly in love would fade once everyday life caught up with them, and worried that, while getting to know each other better, they’d find habits and characteristics that were incompatible, as it so often happens. None of those worries were confirmed; in fact, with each passing week and month, he’s found out that he and Steve match extremely well. They have the same level of tidiness, very similar preferences when it comes to their evening and weekend activities, and where Bucky is pensive and a little bit pessimistic sometimes, Steve manages to balance it out with gentle optimism and encouragement that never feels patronising or controlling. 

Of course, they’ve had quarrels as well, but none of them were too serious or resulted in more than a bit of sulking (and often amazing makeup sex). They still have their own groups of friends, but all of them get along, too, and when Steve moved in with Bucky mere four months after he got back, Bucky discovered new things that he adored about Steve on an almost daily basis. 

It really is a bit ridiculous just how well they seem suited for each other, so much that Bucky sometimes asks himself where the hell the catch is. So far, he hasn’t found even the smallest one, only that he’s falling more and more deeply in love with Steve than he would have thought possible. 

He can see Steve smiling through his mask as he turns and points at something ahead, and even before Bucky turns to look, he recognises the sign Steve makes, and his heart beats a little faster with a mix of panic and excitement.  _ Shark _ . 

When he looks ahead, he spots the outlines of the large fish, cruising slowly low above the ground and unperturbed by their presence. It’s an individual animal, and, as far as Bucky can tell with his limited knowledge, probably a lemon shark. No tiger, at least, but still large and nothing he would want to get too close to. Observing it from afar, he has to admit,  _ is _ fascinating, and they swim around it in a large half circle before it unhurriedly swims away from them and out of sight. 

When they pass a small formation of rocks where they see beautiful butterfly and angler fish among many others they check their remaining air again and finally have to decide to return. 

Their boat from a local dive shop is waiting not far away, and when they find the anchor line they make their slow ascent as Bucky has learned. The boat is still empty when they surface, the group of four that has come out here with them still on their dive. The surface is calm and steady, and they make it back into the boat easily, helping each other getting out of their gear. 

“So, congratulations,” Steve says as he puts his BCD down. “You’re officially a certified scuba diver.” 

“Not before you sign the paperwork,” Bucky replies but can’t suppress his grin, feeling elated and, yes, quite proud of himself. 

Steve makes a waving motion with his hand and shrugs. “Formalities. And done in two minutes. No, but seriously, you did really well.” There’s such fondness in both his gaze and tone that it warms Bucky’s heart and makes the grin turn into a radiant smile. 

“You think?”

“Yeah, honestly. I’ve had many students who haven’t done nearly as well as you.”

Bucky has to laugh, feeling quite abashed. “Well, guess I had a really good teacher. And the others probably didn’t have so many private lessons.” 

Steve shrugs again, and it’s obvious he doesn’t want to diminish Bucky’s achievements. The warm feeling in his chest grows a little stronger, and Bucky leans forward, brings his arms around Steve’s shoulders and brushes a small kiss against his lips. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” Steve replies softly and lets his forehead rest against Bucky’s for a moment. 

“And you’re sure there’s no rule saying you can’t date your instructor?” Bucky asks as they part and start getting out of their wetsuits. 

“No, not that I know of,” Steve replies as he unzips Bucky’s suit. “I mean who’d be more interested in your safety and you having learned everything properly than your boyfriend?”

“Good point,” Bucky replies, keeping to himself what he thought of just a few days ago, when he woke up before Steve and looked at him sleeping next to him. It was like an epiphany, ridiculously early, but he’s not been able to put the thought to rest since then. Bucky’s still going to wait until the full year is over, or maybe longer, but the thought, the firm knowledge without fear or doubt that he is going to ask eventually, makes his stomach tingle. 

Steve is completely unaware of that as he’s pulling the wet neoprene over his feet, and he doesn’t see the grin Bucky tries to bite down on either. 

“So, you still wanna do that shark dive tomorrow?” Bucky asks to distract himself and focus on a different topic, and Steve gives him a slightly incredulous but amused look. 

“That’s the main reason we came here.” 

“What? I thought it was so I could get my PADI certificate,” Bucky replies teasingly. 

“The emphasis was on ‘here’,” Steve replies. “We could have done your certificate somewhere--”

“Less expensive?” Bucky interrupts and gets an apologetic smile from Steve. It’s a good thing Steve’s job at the Museum of Natural History pays rather well, and Bucky got a big bonus from Nat and Clint for Christmas. 

“What I mean is,” Steve wants to explain, but Bucky cuts him off, laying an arm around his shoulder and pulling him to his side. 

“I was just messing with you. You’ve been wanting to do this shark dive for ages,” he says gently and kisses Steve’s cheek. “I mean, you practically like every photo and video this woman posts of herself and her shark ‘babies’ on Facebook. It’s about time you finally get the chance to do this.” 

Steve smiles at him before he leans in again, his head on Bucky’s shoulder and one hand intertwined with Bucky’s, stroking it gently. “You stalk my Facebook a lot, don’t you?” 

“Well, d’uh!” 

“Isn’t private internet use at the workplace usually prohibited?” Steve teases and Bucky rolls his eyes, though he doesn’t draw away from the affectionate contact. 

“That’s the perks of working for your best friends. Plus, you go online at work too.” 

“Only on my lunch break,” Steve replies, “and… when I’m not too busy.” 

Bucky snorts softly. “You’re ridiculous, and I love you.” 

Steve looks up, a small, touched smile on his lips although he’s heard those words many, many times from Bucky in the past. He brings a hand up to Bucky’s cheek before their lips meet for a slightly longer kiss, and it feels amazing just like all that time ago. In many ways, even more. Like they’re made for each other, as ridiculous as  _ that _ sounds, but there’s no other explanation. 

Eleven months ago, Bucky plunged in at the deep end when he overcame his insecurities, doubts and his past. In three and a half weeks, they’ll have been together for an entire year. And sometime soon, maybe even before the second one runs out, he’s going to take a step further and ask Steve to marry him. There are no doubts in him this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The woman they're talking about here is Cristina Zenato, a shark expert and ambassador who's done a lot to raise awareness for sharks. She dives with Caribbean reef sharks on Grand Bahama and offers several types of dives and speciality courses, like the shark handling experience/course where you get to wear a chain mail suit and get into direct contact with what she calls her babies ;)


End file.
